When I’m With You (Indigo) (8 page)

Enough. He needed to see her smile, needed to hear the softness in her voice again. That wouldn’t happen if he didn’t see her, talk to her. He needed her. Marcel shook his head in disbelief. How could someone so tiny cause the mammoth chaos she’d managed to create in his life in such a short amount of time?

He was giving her another twenty-four hours to get over being mad at him. After that, he vowed to go over to her apartment and hold her hostage, if he had to, until he could talk some sense into her.

“Whiskey, neat,” Alcee said, followed by a weary sigh.

Marcel looked over his shoulder and found his father standing next to him. “You, too, huh?” Marcel handed Alcee’s drink to him, then fixed himself a snifter of Grand Marnier.

“Yeah.” Alcee accepted the drink, clinked his glass with Marcel’s and shook his head. “Women…Son, I’m telling you, they’ll drive a man to drink.”

“Hmph, tell me about it.” Taking a sip, Marcel lifted his brow. “So who ruffled your feathers?”

“Your sister.”

Marcel chuckled. “Which one?”

“Aimee.”

Marcel shook his head and smiled. “Say no more.” The twenty-four-year-old Stanford graduate was the youngest member of the family and spoiled rotten.

Alcee took a seat in the leather recliner. “Decided to pay your old man a visit, huh?”

Marcel sat on the couch across from Alcee. “Come on, Pop. It hasn’t been that long.”

“Well, it’s been two weeks.”

“Can’t a man visit with his family without everyone keeping a time log?” Marcel leaned over, absently swirling the Grand Marnier until it sloshed over the rim.

“So, what woman has your feathers ruffled? Caitlyn?”

“Yeah.”

“Happened the night of the banquet, huh?”

Marcel’s head snapped up. “How did you know?”

Looking over his half-rimmed glasses, Alcee smiled. “Moni told Brie, and Brie told me.” Monique, whom everyone called Moni, was the only married sibling of the clan, and Gabrielle, Marcel’s fraternal twin, was nicknamed Brie.

“What?”

“Listen, Son, you know that nothing’s sacred in this family, even the stuff that’s between you and Jesus.” Alcee took another sip. “Apparently Moni saw you and Caitlyn, uh…discussing a few things in the lobby after the awards ceremony.”

Marcel shook his head in disgust. The last person in the world he would have wanted to see that exchange was Moni. At twenty-eight, he knew she felt it was her God-given right to transport information from one family member to the other, and her primary cargo vessel was Brie. He’d thought since Moni was due to give birth in early December, her mind would be preoccupied with the baby, not gossiping.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this taken by a woman before.”

“I haven’t been.”

“You really like her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Pop, I really do.”

“Is this something more than a date here or there?”

“Hell, she’s not even talking to me now, so I’m not sure what we have.”

“What happened?”

Marcel told Alcee everything that happened the night of the banquet.

Alcee nodded. “Stubborn, huh?”

Marcel snorted. “As a century-old mule.”

“She’s pretty, you know.”

“Exquisite,” Marcel corrected.

“Not impressed by material things, I bet.”

“Couldn’t care less.”

Alcee nodded. “Umm-hmm. She’s just like your mother.” He placed his empty glass on the table next to him. Leaning over with his elbows on his knees, he studied Marcel. “Son, you need to brand your woman.”

Marcel snapped his head up. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me the first time.” Alcee’s tone was serious, yet gentle. “Listen, any man can wine and dine a woman, buy her the world. But you’ve got to put your brand on her. Not with material things…that doesn’t count anyway. What I’m talking about is branding her here.” He placed his hand next to his heart. “Brand her with the things you hold there. Allow her to come into the inside of you, so she knows who you really are. It’s not until you share the secrets of your heart with her that you’ll have a chance at a true relationship. Trust me on this one, Son.”

Alcee settled back in the recliner and crossed one long leg over the other. “You know, Baptiste men have a tradition. Goes back at least four generations that I know of.”

“And that is?”

“We go after our women. Not just any woman, mind you, but the right one.”

“How the hell do I go after her when she won’t even talk to me?”

Alcee made a tsking sound, threw back his head and laughed. “You run a billion-dollar corporation, and you’re asking me that question?”

Marcel shot straight off the couch and began to pace. “I’ve spared no expense with this woman.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. She trusted you before she knew about your money, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Son, don’t you see? Caitlyn’s not impressed with Marcel Baptiste, the philanthropist. That’s not what attracted her to you in the first place.”

Marcel halted mid-stride and whirled to face his father. “Well, what am I supposed to do then?”

“Go back to doing the things you did before she found out. If you can get back to that, the rest will fall in place. You want her to trust you here…” He touched his heart again. “…with her very life.”

Marcel stared at Alcee and shook his head in amazement. “Never thought I’d live to see the day that I would be getting advice from my old man on how to get a woman.”

They both laughed.

“Got a plan in mind?”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

Alcee stood and patted Marcel on the shoulder. “That’s good. I knew you would.” He moved toward the door. “Work your plan, then reel her in. A good woman is hard to find.”

Marcel nodded with confidence. “Believe me I plan to do just that.”

* * *

“Caitlyn…” Marcel tapped once on the partially open office door and walked in.

Caitlyn jerked her head up from the mound of paperwork on her desk. She angrily narrowed her eyes even though her heart accelerated to a frantic pace at the sight of him. Her tone was curt. “Why are you here?”

He stood in front of her desk. “To ask you one question.”

She placed her reading glasses on top of her head. “Listen, I don’t appreciate you barging into my office.”

“Get over it. I’m here.”

“But I don’t want you to be here.” Over the past two weeks, her anger had diminished, but Marcel’s arrogance had her so mad she saw stars.

“Touché.”

She stood and braced her hands on the edge of the desk. With her head inclined, she narrowed her eyes to slits. “You know, I don’t like you very much right about now.”

He bunched his brows together and assumed her position. “Well, guess what? You don’t exactly bring greetings from the welcome wagon yourself.”

They stood silently glaring at each other.

She opened her mouth to speak, but abandoned her words when he held up his left hand.

“Hear me out, all right?” He straightened, walked around the desk and stood in front of her. “What’s the one thing you want most for your center?”

She hitched her brow. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.”

She pushed back her chair, moved over to the small wired window behind her and pointed to the activity outside. “Tell me what you see.”

Standing next to her, Marcel stared at the scene. “A group of teenagers hanging around.”

She looked up at his profile. “What are they doing?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

“That’s right. Nothing. They’re doing nothing, Marcel. You want to know why they’re doing nothing? Because there’s nothing for them to do.” She turned back to face the window and sadly stared at the group. “There’s so much potential standing out there, but no one has given them a chance to find it.” She turned and looked up at the side of his face again. “So, if you really want to know what I want, it’s this.” She held up one finger at a time as she named her wishes. “I want something that will pull them away from the corner they’re standing on. I want something that will build their confidence and shape them for the challenges they’ll face in life. I want to open the door of potential I know is inside of them. That’s what I want.”

He turned his attention away from the window and looked at her. “Okay.”

She glanced up and tossed him a puzzled look. “What exactly does okay mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Without another word, he turned and walked out.

* * *

“I don’t believe I heard you correctly. Come again.”

Caitlyn knew it wasn’t the most professional response, but before her brain had a chance to consult with her mouth, the words tumbled out. It was a week later at the youth center’s monthly board of directors meeting, and she’d almost fallen out of her chair at the announcement Fran Jenkins, the board president, had just made.

Fran beamed with delight as she glanced over at Caitlyn and the other board members seated around the table. “Oh, Caitlyn, Mr. Baptiste was very impressed with the idea you presented to him about establishing a cooperative program for the kids.”

Fran turned to the other board members. “The program would offer the youth part-time jobs at local businesses throughout Oakland as a way to earn money and learn job skills.

“It would?” Caitlyn stuttered.

“Oh, yes,” Fran exclaimed. “Mr. Baptiste has even offered to fund the program. That was such an ingenious idea, Caitlyn. Thank you.”

“Uh…well…thanks.”

Fran patted her chest. “Oh, dear, in my excitement I forgot to mention that Mr. Baptiste has agreed to volunteer one afternoon a week to mentor our young men.”

“He has?” Caitlyn managed to say when she finally found her voice.

Fran touched Caitlyn’s hand. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

Caitlyn sighed. “Oh, it’s wonderful all right.”

“And Caitlyn, I don’t need to tell you how much it would mean to have Mr. Baptiste serve on our board of directors.” Fran looked at the affirmative nods given by the other board members around the table. “Do I, dear?”

“O-Our board of directors?” Caitlyn nearly choked on her words.

“He’d be a valuable asset.” Fran beamed.

Caitlyn silently conceded to Fran’s statement with a slight nod.

Fran patted Caitlyn’s hands, which now were tightly laced together on top of the table. “I’m sure you’ll see to that happening, won’t you, dear?”

Caitlyn pointed to herself, her eyes taking on the shape of half dollars. “Who? Me?”

“Why of course, dear. You’re the most logical person since you’re the one who’s established a relationship with him.”

“But Fran—”

“Is there a problem, dear?” A frown marred Fran’s forehead.

Caitlyn shook her head. “No. There’s no problem at all.”

Fran clapped her hands together in delight. “Well, ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have a win-win situation for everyone involved.” Again, she patted Caitlyn’s hands that had now balled into tiny fists. “Wouldn’t you agree, Caitlyn?”

Caitlyn muttered under her breath. “Oh, it’s a win-win all right.”

Caitlyn sat quietly behind the wheel of her old BMW, staring out the windshield at her surroundings. She popped two Tums in her mouth, hoping they would settle her stomach.

It was just past seven o’clock in the evening, the day after the board meeting. Exiting the car, she walked around, braced herself against the hood and stared down on the city below. Even though she’d slipped on her shades, the rays from the setting sun danced off the waters of San Francisco Bay where ships slowly docked at the Port of Oakland. In the distance, the Bay Bridge hovered over the Pacific Ocean.

She’d debated all day whether to go to Marcel’s home. After their heated exchange when he had come to her office and asked her what she wanted most for the center, she wasn’t sure if he’d even agree to see her. It’d taken her most of the day to calm her nerves and get this far. Deciding not to put off what she knew she needed to do, she squared her shoulders, walked to the front door and pushed in the small pearl button of the doorbell.

“Hi.” Her voice was shaky.

“Hi, yourself.” Marcel answered just as nervously. He was casually dressed in faded jeans and tennis shoes. His tank top showed off powerful shoulders and a broad chest covered with thick, curly black hair.

She chewed on her bottom lip. “I-I don’t mean to intrude, and I’m sorry I didn’t call to let you know—”

“You’re always welcome here.” He reached for her hand and pulled her inside.

The Mediterranean-style estate had a fabulous grand foyer and featured a Travertine dual staircase. A fifty-inch crystal chandelier hung from a circular sky dome over a gorgeous water fountain, providing an enormous amount of light in the spacious entryway.